A New Dawn
by celtic-twinkie
Summary: When Nathaniel & the new Warden Commander cross paths, the unexpected happens. It's drama, humor and a love story all rolled into one thrilling tale. Please review, feedback is very welcome!
1. Chapter 1

**A New Recruit**_  
_Chapter One  
Location: Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine

A/N: The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware. Reviews and constructive criticism are very welcome.

If Nathaniel Howe had known exactly _what_ lay in store for him at Vigil's Keep, he might have run screaming back to the Free Marches and gladly taken up the life of a goat farmer. He'd descended upon Vigil's Keep intent on extracting some sort of revenge or perhaps recovering family heirlooms. The Maker (in his infinite wisdom) however, had something else in mind entirely. Nathaniel had been captured fairly quickly (but not before taking down four Wardens he thought with grim satisfaction) and forced to cool his heels in a prison cell for three days.

Then the Warden Commander had shown up. Nathaniel had expected some larger than life, brawny godlike figure with lightning bolts shooting out of his eyes and hands. Instead here stood a petite female elf with exotically beautiful features studying him with solemn grey eyes. His temper exploded at the thought this _interloper_who was obviously here to gloat over his misery. He'd shouted at her, accusing her of being the soulless monster that had murdered his father in cold blood and condemning the Howe family to live as pariahs. When his ranting finally subsided the Warden Commander had coolly inquired if he knew exactly what his father had done. Shaking his head, Nathaniel crossed his arms and leaned back against the cell wall, certain she would the call for his execution. His father, mother, siblings, and countless others were all dead; his childhood home now belonged to the damnable Grey Wardens. He had nothing left; his death would be a relief.

Then she spoke the three words that would change his life forever: "Let him go."

Nathaniel's eyes had bulged open in shock. "What?" he gasped.

"Are you absolutely certain, Commander?" Seneschal Varel stared at her in horrified surprise. He opened his mouth to protest further, but prudently shut it again when the Warden Commander merely raised an eyebrow at him.

Nathaniel wanted to grab the Commander by the shoulders and shake her silly until he got some answers. Why had she murdered his father yet saw fit to spare his own life? What game was she playing?

But then Varel and the Commander left and the cell guard barely let Nathaniel grab his belongings before escorting him to the Keep's front gate. "Off with you now," the guard bit out contemptuously. "Be grateful the Commander chose to be so merciful."

"Right," Nathaniel muttered.

The inky black of the night was marred by large, angry storm clouds. As the Keep receded in the distance, Nathaniel paused to consider his options. He should probably head towards the city of Amaranthine to try and find a room for the night. However, he had nothing but the clothes on his back, his bow and only a few silvers to his name. Perhaps a sympathetic farmer would let him take supper and spend the night in the barn if Nathaniel offered to chop wood or clean out the stables or something.

It started to rain heavily (another indication of the Maker's odd sense of humor?) and the need to find to find shelter quickly became Nathaniel's primary concern. Pulling the hood of his cloak over his head he headed swiftly to a cave he remembered was located not too far off the road.

Upon arriving at his destination he undressed, laid his clothes out to dry then slipped into his bedroll. There was no dry wood for a fire and he had no food on him. Hurriedly pulling the blanket over his shivering body, he found it strange that the only person in all of Ferelden who had showed him any kindness was his father's murderer. He'd threatened to kill the Commander of the Grey and she had let him go. There had to be some irony in that.

He supposed he could go back to the Free Marches (to become the aforementioned goat farmer). Or perhaps he could become a Grey Warden. Somehow the thought of fighting the darkspawn didn't seem so bad anymore. At least he would have a purpose.

Thinking back to the Commander, he had to admit he was intrigued by her as well. Did she always keep that rich, dark chocolate brown hair of hers styled in such a severe bun? She carried a mage staff at her back yet her armor consisted of thigh high doeskin boots, breeches that fit her like a second skin and a leather tunic layered over a deep blue linen shirt that flared at the cuffs. What mage wore leather armor?

Tomorrow he would go find her and ask to make him a Grey Warden. Perhaps it wouldn't be as simple as waltzing back to the Keep and adding a 'pretty please' to his request, but somehow he knew that she wouldn't refuse him. His last thought as he finally drifted asleep was of the alluring grey of her elven eyes.

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The insidious army of tiny dwarves now stomping gleefully around in Nathaniel Howe's brain had also tricked him into swallowing half the sand in Amaranthine. At least that's what it felt like. As he tried to remember what happened to him, Nathaniel made the fatal mistake of opening his eyes. Yelping rather loudly in surprise, he shut them tightly as ten thousand pinpricks of cruelly horrible light stabbed him repeatedly in the eyeballs.

"Welcome Brother," a somber, female voice greeted him. "How do you feel?"

Reality sharpened quickly into focus as Nathaniel opened his eyes again. Mercifully, it didn't hurt as much this time. He'd undertaken The Joining and survived to become a Grey Warden. He was also in what appeared to be his old room while the Warden Commander sat near him, a book in hand.

He grunted. Honestly, it was all he could come up with at the moment.

Setting aside the book, she stood and walked over to him. She placed her hand on his brow, as if to gauge how warm he was. He flinched as a flash of blue light flared from her fingertips. "Peace, Nathaniel," she said reassuringly. "I am merely trying to ease your pain."

His headache slowly receded by degrees and the tension from the muscles in his shoulders eased. Her hand brushed his forehead again as she finished the healing spell, causing him to shiver involuntarily.

"You are good at this," he muttered under his breath.

The Warden Commander smiled. "I'll take that as a sign you are feeling better. " She helped him sit up then handed him a glass filled with a murky green, brackish liquid.

"What is this?" He sniffed suspiciously at it.

"It's Oghren's morning after concoction. It is vile but it will help you feel better."

Nathaniel shook his head mulishly. "I don't like the way it smells," he said flatly. "Also, it isn't morning."

"Drink it." Her tone brooked no further argument.

Nathaniel glared at her balefully. Sighing, he gulped the contents of the glass quickly, preferring not to dwell on what that nasty tasting excuse for a restorative was made of. His eyes immediately began to water and his throat choked up. Setting the glass down he slumped sullenly back on his pillow, muttering under his breath.

"I suppose you could address me as 'fool woman'," the Warden Commander commented with a wry grin, "But I'd rather you call me Neria."

She then pointed to a covered tray laid out on a nearby table. "I brought you some food; no doubt you must be starving. You may go to the armory later and choose from whatever armor or weaponry we have available. When you are ready, report to the throne room. There are reports of darkspawn in the Keep basement and I could use your help down there." She picked up her book and turned to leave.

"Why did you let me go?" he asked suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"I wanted to kill you. Any sane person would've had me executed on the spot. Instead you set me free."

Neria raised an eyebrow. "Do you still want to kill me?"

Nathaniel glared at her, offended. "No, but that's not the point."

She crossed her arms and sighed. "I don't blame the son for the sins of his father, Nathaniel."

"Why not? Everybody else does."

She took a moment to ponder the question. "As an elf and a mage, I understand all too well what it is like to be looked upon with suspicion. I figure everyone deserves a second chance. Even you."

Nathaniel closed his eyes. He wondered if it would ever be possible to understand the tangled paradox that was the Warden Commander's logic. "You are a very strange woman," he murmured.

"I've been called worse. Rest well, Nathaniel." Gracing him with an easy smile Neria exited the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

_A/N: Wow, I was originally going to do a 3 part mini story deal, and it grew into another creature entirely. I guess it's gonna be more than a few chapters long. I hope you jump on and hang along for this crazy ride._


	2. Chapter 2

**No Journey's End**_  
_Chapter Two  
Location: Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine

_I'll probably go mad before it's over_.

That was the thought replaying itself over and over in Warden Commander Neria Surana's mind as she splashed cold water on her face. Picking up a towel and patting her face dry, Neria eyed herself critically in the mirror. She'd come a long way from her humble beginnings as the shy, idealistic mage apprentice who'd been perfectly content to spend her days reading and studying magic. With the help of a ragtag band of misfits whom she'd come to think of as her family she'd rescued Ferelden from the brink of civil war and defeated the Archdemon. But her former companions had scattered to the four winds (though Oghren was still here) and she was now officially the Commander of the Grey as well as the first elf and mage in all of Ferelden to hold the title of Arlessa. She now had the onerous task of rebuilding the Grey Warden Order. The entire arling of Amaranthine looked to her for leadership and protection. No pressure or anything!

And was that the faint beginnings of crow's feet around her eyes?

Neria fussed around with her cosmetics for a bit, finally completing her toilette by expertly twisting her silky brown tresses into a simple chignon. Picking up her gear she slid a final longing glance at the open book tucked invitingly on her soft fluffy bed before heading to the Throne Room.

She bumped into Nathaniel on the way who nodded at her tersely as they fell in step together. He looked rested. She noted the set of leather armor he wore was one from the armory. It fit him well, emphasizing his toned, muscular arms. She wondered if the rest of him was as well endowed. She hadn't thought of a man that way since…

She cleared her throat. "How do you fare, Nathaniel?"

"I am well, Commander. Thank you for asking."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow. "Then why do you look as if you are being led to the gallows?"

He glanced at her. "Your decision to allow me to take the Joining was not a popular one."

"They may harbor some residual animosity," she allowed.

"That's the understatement of the year," he muttered darkly.

Neria stopped just outside the side entrance to the Throne room and paused to look at him, her grey eyes full of warmth and support. She took his hand briefly and gave it a quick squeeze. "Keep your chin up, Nathaniel," she murmured then turned and walked resolutely into the Throne room.

Nathaniel shut his eyes and sighed, waiting a few beats before following in after her.

Anders and Oghren had already arrived and were standing near the fireplace. They'd been trading barbs and sharing a laugh but both abruptly fell silent at Nathaniel's approach.

Neria graced everyone with her most charming smile when she reached the fireplace. "No doubt you are all acquainted with each other already," Neria said briskly. "But before we head down to the basement, I think we should take a minute to get to know each other better. "

All three men now had their arms crossed and were looking at her expectantly.

"Which means," Neria continued stubbornly, "that each of us should share a little bit of our personal history. Why don't we start with Anders?" She gave the mage an encouraging smile. "Anders, you are a mage who tried to escape the Circle seven times but recently joined the Grey Wardens….and?"

Anders blinked rapidly, seemingly puzzled by Neria's enthusiastic recital of the obvious.

"Do you have anything else to add, Anders?"

"No," he replied.

A moment of pained silence ensued. Neria sighed. "Fine. Oghren? What about you?"

"BURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

"Andraste's arse!" Neria exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. "The whole point of this exercise is to lessen the tension between the three of you! Why aren't you bloody cooperating?"

"Is she always this cranky, Oghren?" Anders asked plaintively.

Oghren shrugged. "Don't bleeding ask me. I don't know anything about women."

"If I may interrupt Commander," Nathaniel said suddenly. "Why do you wear leather armor if you are a mage?"

Pleased by his interest, Neria gratefully seized the opportunity to say something substantive that didn't involve monosyllabic replies or explosions from Oghren's various orifices. "Well, I've always been of the opinion that whoever designed Tevinter robes should be hanged for their crimes against fashion. I asked Master Wade to design a set of leather armor that complimented and enhanced mage abilities, so he did. He is quite simply a genius."

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "And what abilities would those be, Commander?" His pleasant gravel-wrapped baritone voice made her shiver.

Was he flirting with her? "Oh, you have no idea."

"Perhaps a demonstration of these abilities is in order? You know, in the interest of lessening tensions?"

She stared at Nathaniel with large, innocent eyes. Clearly he had no idea that part of her specializations included shapeshifting. She walked slowly towards Nathaniel, making sure he took note of the sway of her hips as she suddenly disappeared to be replaced by a…

"**RAWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR**!"

…very large and very hairy black bear currently reared up on its hind legs and lurching threateningly towards Nathaniel.

"Maker's breath!" Eyes wide, Nathaniel scrambled back in shock, ending up on his ass. He shut his eyes, steeling himself against whatever fate the bear had in store from him. A second later he ventured to open his eyes again. The bear was now sitting back on its haunches, its razor sharp teeth bared into an ursine grin that somehow managed to look both threatening and friendly at the same time.

Both Anders and Oghren were clutching their sides in laughter.

"Your face, Nathaniel…priceless…"

"Don't feel bad, she did the same thing to me….I nearly pissed in my pants…"

The bear whuffed companionably and moved forward so that it's nose was only a inch away from Nathaniel's. Nathaniel could feel it's hot breath puff against his face. It's long dark purple tongue stuck out and laved the side of Nathaniel's face, leaving Nathaniel dripping in a liberal dose of bear saliva.

Suddenly the bear was gone and the Commander was standing before him again, a smug grin on her face.

"Sorry, Nathaniel, I couldn't resist." Neria giggled as she offered him her hand, not noticing the glint of retribution in his eyes. Taking her hand, he jerked her off-balance so she fell into his lap and became covered in bear saliva as well. She squealed in surprise. "Nathaniel!"

Nathaniel smiled evilly. "You give as good as you get, Commander."

Neria tried to wiggle out of Nathaniel's lap, but Nathaniel's arms were locked around her keeping in place. She noticed a slight hitch in Nathaniel's breath when she shifted, and suddenly became aware of an interesting new development…dear Marker, he had an erection…

"Bloody nug humpers, get a room already, you two," Oghren grumbled.

Aware that Anders and Oghren were watching the both of them with great interest; Neria blushed and quickly scrambled off Nathaniel's lap.

Anders said nothing, only sporting a knowing grin on his face as he handed them both towels.

"We should probably make our way to the basement," she said gruffly, avoiding Nathaniel's eyes as she dried herself off with her towel.

Hoisted by her own petard. Bloody hell.

_A/N: I had fun writing this chapter! Eva_Galana and sapphiretoes, thank you so much for your reviews, they mean a lot to me!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Between The Shadows**_  
_Chapter Three  
Location: Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine

Water droplets glistened on Nathaniel Howe's lean, muscular body as he stepped out of the tub and dried himself off. He'd scrubbed himself repeatedly until the dirt and grime were gone and his skin turned pink and pruney, but had less success in erasing the haunting memories of Adria from his mind. Encountering the ghouls and piles of corpses in the Keep's basement had been bad enough, but seeing the woman who'd been like a mother to him now transformed into a ghoul had shaken him to the core. He'd begged the Warden Commander to save Adria, babbling that they had to try something…anything to save Adria from this horrible fate. However, Neria had shaken her head and quietly told him it was impossible to reverse the taint. Adria was no longer the kind, matronly woman he once knew, but rather now a soulless ghoul. Ending her…**its**…misery, he corrected himself, was an act of mercy. She'd represented the last vestige of any soft or pleasant memories he'd had from childhood.

Nathaniel shut his eyes and sighed as he began to dress. Then there was the Warden Commander herself; she unlocked a slew of feelings, emotions and desires he'd rather not dwell upon. Neria had shown him mercy, stood as a shield against many who would have shunned him and deftly broken the ice between himself and the other Grey Wardens. She tended to be impulsive, often leading with her heart which was why, he supposed, she inspired such confidence and loyalty amongst those serving under her. Then when she was in his lap, her luscious bottom writhing deliciously against his groin in her struggle to get away had set his desire for her spinning out of control. As he laced up his breeches, he groaned as his hand brushed his aching erection. The temptation to pleasure himself was great…just a few more strokes and he would have the relief his body ached for. He wanted her and he resented her for it. The changes in his life were happening so fast, it was a struggle to reconcile his desires with his past feelings of anger and hatred. They'd been part of him for so long, it was difficult to just let it go.

A knock at his door had him cursing under his breath and his hands fumbling to lace up his breeches. When he was decent he opened the door to find an elven servant waiting patiently. "Milord?"

"Yes? What is it?" Nathaniel frowned at the servant. His livery was not that of the Keep's, indicating the elf worked for one of the arling's nobility.

"A message for you milord." He handed Nathaniel a folded note.

Nathaniel unfolded the note, quickly scanned its contents and tucked the note into his pocket.

"Tell her I will meet her shortly." Nathaniel nodded curtly at the elf, dismissing him.

"Aye, milord." The elf bowed and left.

Nathaniel passed by the Warden Commander's office on his way to the stables. He jumped in surprise when her door abruptly opened and she stepped out.

"Nathaniel! Just the man I wanted to see!" She grabbed him by the arm. "Come with me!"

"Commander?"

Her eyes danced mischievously. "I have something for you."

"Can't it wait?" he said, annoyed at being waylaid from his original destination.

"No, and shut up, Nathaniel. You will obey your Commander's orders."

He rolled his eyes but her enthusiasm was infectious, he relented as she pulled him inside her office.

"How is your bosom?" he asked, his cheeks quickly reddening at his poor choice of words. "Ah, I mean your wound around the…" He gestured vaguely to her torso.

She sent him a wicked grin, seeming to enjoy his embarrassment. "Oh, it's a little tender, but the bruising should go away in a few days," she replied, referring to the injury she'd sustained while they'd been clearing the Keep's basement. "But I didn't bring you here to talk about my chest." Walking over to her desk, she picked up a bundle wrapped in oilcloth and handed it to him.

"What's this?" he asked.

She smiled. "Open it and you'll see."

Nathaniel's eyes widened as he unwrapped the bundle and spotted the Howe crest on the bow. "This bow belonged to my grandfather!"

"I also found some correspondence that belonged to Delilah," she added, nodding at a packet of letters wrapped together with a faded green ribbon. "You might find them interesting. I think the bow is broken though."

He slid his hand reverently over the curved wood. "It is enchanted so that only a Howe can use it." He stared at the bow for a long moment. When he looked up at her his eyes were filled with suspicion. "Why did you give this to me?"

She arched an eyebrow. "You mentioned you wanted some family mementos. Was I wrong?"

He shook his head, his expression troubled. "I want to ask you something," he said in a low, raw voice, voicing the question that had been nagging him for months. "My father…did he suffer in the end?"

Seeming unsurprised, Neria crossed her arms. "Are you sure you want to hear this, Nathaniel?" she asked skeptically. "It isn't pleasant."

He nodded mutely.

"He was in the dungeons of the Denerim estate," She spoke slowly, choosing her words with care. "There were so many rooms filled with people that were either tortured or killed. When I finally confronted him for his deeds, he attacked. It was going to be either him or me. But for what it's worth, I did not prolong his pain in the end. I'm sorry."

All the resentment and anger that had been stewing in his gut over the past few weeks boiled over violently. "That's _it_?" Nathaniel asked coldly. "My father is dead and all you can say is sorry? That's supposed to make me feel better?"

She frowned. "What do you want me to say?"

Nathaniel began pacing restlessly, continuing as if she hadn't spoken. "And then you shower me with g_ifts_ and offer these trite platitudes about my father!"

"I gave you the bow and the letters," she said through clenched teeth. "Because I thought they would make you happy. "

"Am I supposed to fall upon my knees and worship you in gratitude?" he sneered.

Neria's fists clenched. "You pompous jackass! You think you are the only one in all of Ferelden who's lost someone they loved?" she yelled. "I **died** the day I lost Colin!" Tears streamed furiously down her face as she realized she'd revealed too much. Her back rigid, she turned towards the fireplace. "Get out," she said curtly.

"Commander," he began hesitantly, beginning to regret his earlier outburst.

"I mean it, Howe. **Leave**."

Nathaniel exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. Had he been too harsh with her? He shut his eyes briefly as a myriad of emotions swirled in his head. Nothing made sense anymore. Shaking his head, he reminded himself: she was the murderer. Did she seriously expect the anger to instantaneously melt away because she gave him a few gifts? Remembering he still had another person to meet with, he made his way to the stables. Luckily the Keep was abuzz with servants and soldiers all bustling to finish the preparations for the Fealty Ceremony tonight, his movements would remain unnoticed.

He slipped into the stables, heading towards a hooded figure already waiting for him at a stall furthest from the stable entrance.

Nathaniel kept his face carefully blank. "Greetings, your ladyship."

Bann Esmerelle slipped the hood of her cloak off her head and held her hand out to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel ignored the proffered hand, choosing instead to execute a shallow bow. Esmerelle's features hardened as she looked Nathaniel up and down.

"You have my condolences for the death of your father," she began. "He was a great man."

"Thank you."

"A pity that the arling had to fall into the hands of those _Wardens_," Esmerelle remarked bitterly, spitting out the last word as if it left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

"May I remind you, Bann Esmerelle, that I am one of them now," he said defensively. She wore the same expression of perpetual discontent his father had.

She waved her hand negligently. "Yes, yes. Be that as it may, I understand you still harbor a grudge towards that knife ears who murdered your father in cold blood. It was quite clever of you to join the Wardens and bide your time 'till you could have your revenge."

Nathaniel frowned. "No, you misunderstand…"

"I've have a proposal for you," she interrupted him. She held up a pouch and shook it; it jingled with coins. "Fifty sovereigns, Nathaniel. Well enough to get you a new start on life. And the chance to get revenge for you father. All you have to do is report any interesting developments to me."

"You mean spy on her," Nathaniel muttered.

Esmerelle smiled sardonically and shook the pouch at him again. "That's one way of putting it. Just think of it as looking out for the interests of the people of Amaranthine. Give me your answer by the end of this evening, Nathaniel. Will you consider it?"

Nathaniel nodded. "I will consider it."

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Neria spent a long time in the Warden Commander's office with strict orders not to be disturbed. She'd cried as grief surged through her…wounds she'd thought had long since healed were raw and bloody again. But after awhile she became angry again. She would not waste one single tear over that…jerk. She was beginning to regret the impulsive outburst about turning into a bear and sliming Nathaniel. Sod Nathaniel, sod her being all alone is this dratted hole of Keep. She just wanted to hide somewhere for a very long time. She couldn't, of course. She was supposed to set an example as Commander of the Grey and the Arlessa of Amaranthine, along with the added pressure of being the first elf and mage to hold a position of authority. She missed the informal camaraderie of questing on the road amongst people with whom she could be herself. Wiping her tears away quickly, she left her office and headed back to her own quarters.

"My lady, you are late!" a stern voice greeted her.

"I'm sorry Jeannie; I had some matters to take care of."

"You've been crying."

She tried to smile as Jeannie helped her to undress. "Only about the appalling lack of chocolate they don't stock at the Keep."

Jeannie tutted. "I've a bath laid out for you, my lady."

She climbed into the tub and sighed with bliss. This was one of the times she was grateful that Varel had insisted she have a lady in waiting, as was befitting a lady of her station. She'd met Jeannie back in the Alienage in Denerim and they'd become fast friends. When Neria had been assigned to Vigil's Keep, she'd asked Jeannie to come along, knowing she'd need an ally in the midst of all these…strangers. But now Jeannie insisted on calling her "my lady", much to Neria's frustration.

After Jeannie had washed out her hair and Neria had scrubbed herself clean, Jeannie helped her to dress and put on her evening ball gown. She was pale but radiant in a lush, smoky blue velvet gown with dark blue silk chiffon upper sleeves embroidered with beadwork. The neckline was elegantly edged with silver ribbon.

"Can you imagine you are the first elf in all of history to be an Arlessa?" Jeannie exclaimed brushing Neria's hair until it gleamed.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be, believe me." Neria kept her eyes closed as Jeannie expertly braided and pinned Neria's hair into an elegant chignon. "I have this recurring nightmare that when I enter the room, I trip over my dress and everyone laughs."

"Be yourself, my lady," Jeannie advised. "Let the nobles get to know _you_ and the rest will come naturally."

Neria smiled as she took Jeannie's hand and squeezed it affectionately. "I think that's probably what they are afraid of," Neria said wryly.

"You are going to be just fine, my lady," Jeannie said with confidence.

"Thank you, Jeannie."

After her toilette was completed, Neria dismissed her handmaiden. Gazing at herself critically in the mirror, she eyed the angry looking bruise that marred her décolletage. Jeannie had wanted to cover it up with powder, but she'd refused. At least the bruise matched the color of her gown, she thought with a smile. She picked up her staff and left the room.

As she meandered through the halls of the Keep the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end. She had the feeling that someone was following her, but when she turned to look around the hallways were empty. The dark, shifting shadows created by the flickering torches wreaked havoc on her senses. She was being paranoid, she told herself. Yet, as time passed, the more acute her anxiety became.

She caught the foul odor of cheap, rancid ale just as meaty hands seized her from behind and slammed her against the wall. Pain exploded throughout her body as she fell to the floor stunned, barely aware of the fleshy fingers surrounding her throat…and then everything went black.

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The nobles of Amaranthine had come to pledge allegiance to the Commander of the Grey. The throne room was packed full of people, with servants circulating around the room with trays of wine and bon mots. From his position on the dais, Nathaniel noticed a tall, fair-headed knight in the corner sporting a black eye who looked like he had been on the receiving end of a bad thrashing. Ser Anthony, if he recalled correctly. The colors he wore indicating he belonged to Bann Esmerelle's contingent.

"Anders," noted Seneschal Varel with concern. "Have you seen the Commander? She's not usually this late."

Anders shook his head, his gold earring glinting in the ambient light. "Last I heard, she was still in her rooms, getting ready. You want me to check on her?"

Varel nodded. "That would be much appreciated, Anders."

Anders started to make his way to the hallway, but stopped at the appearance of the Commander. The entire room hushed and all eyes were on her as she slowly made her way to the dais, with the smooth leisurely deliberation of a swan gliding across a lake. Nathaniel thought her the most beautiful woman in the world, the dark smoky blue of her dress complimenting her grey eyes perfectly. Taking her place on the center of the dais, she nodded to Varel.

"Let the ceremony begin," Varel intoned formally.

As the various nobles came forward to pledge their allegiance, Nathaniel kept his eyes on Neria. She held herself rigidly and her face was devoid of any expression, like that of a china doll. Her right arm was cradled protectively against her side. Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

After Banns Esmerelle and Edelbreck swore fealty, the crowd began to mingle again and the room was abuzz with chatter.

"Varel, you may dismiss the nobles now," Neria said quietly. "I am going back to my chambers."

He nodded. "As you wish, Commander, but Ser Tamara insists she has urgent business to discuss with you…."

"Tell her to meet me in my office in one hour." she replied.

Varel nodded his head. "Yes, Commander."

"Anders, will you walk with me?" she asked. "I need to discuss something with you."

"Of course."

Nathaniel stared in concern as Neria and Anders exited the room. The Commander should now be mingling amongst the nobles to get to know them and get a feel for what she might be dealing with. To leave the ceremony so early was unwise. Perhaps he should go and tell her. Hurrying after them, he caught up them in the hallway. Now that she was no longer in front of an audience, Neria was leaning heavily against Anders, his arm supporting her as they walked slowly.

"Commander."

"Not now Nathaniel!" Neria said peevishly.

Nathaniel frowned as he studied her closely. "Where did the bruise on your chest go?"

She suddenly stumbled and Nathaniel instinctively took her arm to steady her. Neria cried out in pain, jerking her arm away from Nathaniel's grip and buckled to the floor.

The air around Neria suddenly shimmered; the image of an immaculately dressed Neria disappeared, leaving a battered and bruised Neria with her gown torn to shreds in its place.

"What in the hell happened?" Nathaniel demanded as Anders knelt down to quickly examine her injury.

"I think she fractured her arm. In fact, I'm sure the bone is broken," Anders replied urgently.

Her eyes were shut and sweat beaded her upper lip. "I had to cast a glamour. Couldn't let the Banns see me like this."

"I'm not talking about the fucking spell! Why are you all bloodied and bruised? Who did this to you?" Nathaniel demanded.

"No one did, Nathaniel, I fell and…" she gasped in pain again as Anders gingerly probed her arm.

A sudden image of the limping knight with the blackened eye flashed in Nathaniel's mind.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled and took off at a full run down the hallway. He kicked the main door open and headed outside towards Bann Esmerelle's carriage, which Esmerelle was in the process of mounting. Nathaniel spotted the same knight who now had bandages to go with the black eye and tackled him at a full run. Caught by surprise, Ser Anthony went down with a pained grunt. Nathaniel jumped onto the fallen knight and ruthlessly began to pummel his face. Screams and chaos filled the air before Oghren, Varel, and a contingent of Keep guards came running out. It took the combined efforts of four Keep guards to pull Nathaniel off the knight.

Nathaniel shook himself free and glared at Ser Anthony, his chest heaving. "If you ever touch her again, I will castrate you. **Slowly**."

"What is the meaning of this?" Bann Esmerelle screeched. "How dare you attack one of my knights!"

"He assaulted the Commander," Nathaniel replied with deadly calm.

Esmerelle turned her attention to Ser Anthony. "Is this true?"

"That elven whore threw herself at me!" the knight protested. "When I refused, she got angry and she attacked me!"

"Spare me your lies," Nathaniel snapped at him, and then gestured to the Keep guards. "Place this _man_ under arrest."

"You have no authority over my men, Howe!" Esmerelle retorted angrily.

Varel stepped forward, his eyes hard. "He may not, but I do." At Varel's nod of assent, the Keep guards took Ser Anthony into custody. "Leave **now** Esmerelle, or I may find it necessary to detain you for questioning as well."

The Bann's mouth dropped open in shock. "This isn't over, Grey Wardens," she muttered as she stepped into her carriage and drove off into the night.

"Well, that was interesting," Varel slid an assessing glance at Nathaniel. "Didn't think you had it in you, Howe."

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, Varel. I _think_."

Leaving Varel to sort out the remaining chaos, Nathaniel headed to the Warden Commander's room. When he arrived, he found that Anders had already bandaged up Neria and she was fast asleep. "How is she?" he asked Anders.

"Remarkably, she only had the broken arm and some bruises," Anders replied. "The Commander excels at hand to hand combat. I almost feel sorry for that other fellow: mess with our Commander, you'll never be the same."

Nathaniel moved to Neria's side, never taking his eyes off her as he tenderly brushed the hair from her face. "Indeed," he murmured.

_A/N: Thanks to b and kissy, my awesome betas! And thank you to everyone who has reviewed or put me on their favorites/alert list, you guys brighten my day. :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Us of Lesser Gods**_  
_Chapter Four  
Location: Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine

The night before they were to head to the city of Amaranthine, Warden Commander Neria Surana had one final task to accomplish before she retired for the night. In the week since her _run-in_ with Ser Anthony and thanks to Ander's excellent healing magic, Neria had recovered very quickly though she still experienced an occasional twinge of pain. When she'd finally awakened, Anders had excitedly relayed the events of the past evening. Nathaniel Howe had drawn a line in the sand by confronting Ser Anthony (and beating the crap out of him in the process) and demanded his arrest. Varel had then stepped in done just that, much to the shock of Bann Esmerelle.

Anders had added as a personal aside that Nathaniel had spent hours at her side while she was unconscious, finally only surrendering to Ander's demands that he get some rest lest Nathaniel faint and Anders would have to undress and give him a very thorough examination. Since Neria's recovery, every female at Vigil's Keep had gone out of their way to rehash the exact details of Nathaniel's heroic and very romantic deeds. Did the Commander know exactly how dashing and handsome Nathaniel was? Had she thanked him properly yet?

Neria responded to each conversation exactly the same way: give the person a polite smile and said yes, she indeed planned to show some sort of gesture of gratitude. And therein lay the problem; she couldn't think of a way to properly thank him without fueling the wagging tongues of a thousand and one gossipmongers. Maybe a handshake. No, but that didn't seem sufficient. They'd had an awful argument (though he was the one being unreasonable, she told herself). Yet surely his subsequent actions merited something more than a handshake. A hug maybe? But…she didn't hug male subordinates…and anything beyond that was just improper.

Even when she was on the road travelling with her former companions in their quest to defeat the Archdemon, there'd been a veritable buffet of virile, strapping males to_canoodle_ with. Especially Alistair who was now the King of Ferelden. Alistair's awkward attempts to flirt with her had been sweet, but she'd gently brushed aside his tentative overtures. There was nothing left of her heart to give to anyone, it was that simple.

In the weeks since taking command of the arling of Amaranthine, Vigil's Keep was a whirlwind of activity. In addition to rebuilding and fortifying the Keep, Neria and Varel both had their hands full grappling with the myriad of issues it took to keep the arling running smoothly: keeping the main roads free from bandits, making sure trade flowed smoothly and much more. In fact, Neria planned to establish schools and medical clinics throughout Amaranthine.

Nathaniel, for his part, seemed changed by that fateful night. He drew upon his intimate knowledge of the lands and people of Amaranthine (as only one who grew up there could) to determine which farmers and traders were honorable, who gave the best price as suppliers and how to get a good deal on it. Vigil's Keep ran a lot smoother thanks to Nathaniel's inside contacts and longstanding relationships to traders and suppliers of Amaranthine.

In fact, Neria was quite sure that a significant piece of her relationship with the currently elusive Nathaniel Howe had turned some corner, as if the some mysterious last piece to a missing puzzle had finally clicked into place.

And now she stood before the door to his room. She knocked tentatively, but there was no answer. Should she wait? No, she decided. Muttering to herself, Neria took an enormous ring of keys out of her pocket and scrutinized several keys until she was sure she had the right one. She slid the key into the lock and was quite pleased with herself as the lock turned and the door opened. The room was dark when she walked in, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. As she closed the door, she squeaked in surprise as she was suddenly grabbed from behind and pressed intimately against a very warm and very nude male body. A muscular arm wrapped itself around her middle, pinning her arms to her sides as she felt the cold steel of a dagger pressed against her throat.

"Honestly, Nathaniel it's only me," she said in an aggrieved tone.

"Commander? What are you doing sneaking into my room in the middle of the night?" Nathaniel asked in an annoyed voice. He let her go and fumbled to light a lamp on the table.

"I needed to talk."

"Don't people usually knock?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Yes, well I did knock and you didn't answer."

"I was asleep. And you broke into my room!"

"I didn't break in. I used the master keys," she said smugly.

As her eyes adjusted to the faint, flickering light of the room, her mouth formed a wordless O when she noticed something rather _interesting_ about the state of Nathaniel's…Maker's breath, that wasn't a…a…was it?

Indeed it was. Nathaniel smiled sardonically, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction at the Commander's slack jawed stare at the part of him that was, apparently, rather happy to see her. He crossed his arms. "Is there something I can help you with, Commander?"

The dratted man had no intention of making this easy for her. She made it a point to focus on a rather interesting speck on the wall instead. "Yes, we need to talk," she said, trying to recall the speech she'd rehearsed in her head all day. "First of all, I would like to formally thank you for your actions the other night. It was uh…" No, she absolutely would not glance at the contours of his broad shoulders, his chiseled abdomen and his…_oh dear_…Nathaniel was a very _well endowed_ boy. She brought out the sword and dagger she'd brought with her and abruptly thrust it (pommel side up) towards him. Surprised, Nathaniel took them and stared at them in wonder.

"These belonged to Duncan," she began. "He was…"

"The Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden before you," he murmured. "He died at Ostagar, didn't he?"

Neria nodded. "He rescued me from the Tower. Duncan meant a great deal to me as a mentor for the brief period I knew him." She closed her eyes, as if trying to ward off uninvited grief. "When King Alistair and I returned to Ostagar much later to recover Cailan's body, we were able to recover these. And…nobody has ever stood up for me like that, the way you did, Nathaniel. So I wanted you to have these as a token of my esteem and gratitude."

Nathaniel examined the dagger and sword with a critical eye. "I have never seen their equal. Thank you."

Nathaniel's breath hitched and began breathing unevenly as Neria allowed herself to drift closer until she was but a hairsbreadth away from him. "Thank you, Nathaniel," she said softly as she brushed an errant coal-black lock of hair from his face.

Nathaniel's eyes closed briefly and Neria was intrigued by the inky sweep of his lashes resting against his cheeks. When he opened his eyes again he stared at her for a moment, as if trying to gauge her thoughts. "You are welcome," he said finally.

Neria only had to move her hand slightly between their bodies and she could grasp his throbbing erection in her hands. What if she dared to caress him, would he pant and moan and gasp her name as she pleasured him?

Nathaniel tilted his head towards hers, his eyes darkening with desire. "Neria," he said roughly. "I am this close to throwing you on the bed and having my way with you."

His words brought a surge of moisture to her loins but it also jolted her back to reality. She shook her head and hastily edged backwards, eager to put some distance between them.

"Well at any rate good night Nathaniel, I will see you in the morning," she said briskly then turned and swiftly left the room. She absolutely could not allow herself to continue indulging in these foolish, impulsive whims. From now on she would strive to maintain a measured, professional demeanor in front of Nathaniel and start acting like the proper Warden Commander that everyone expected her to be.

_A/N: Thanks again to b and kissy for their invaluable advice, it really makes all the difference. And to everyone who has commented and favorited, thank you so much!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Already Gone**_  
_Chapter Five  
Location: The City of Amaranthine

_Andraste's flaming ass, it's never going to bloody go away._

Like some insidious parasite that had attached itself to his crotch and gleefully fed off any thought or mention of Neria, Nathaniel Howe had been walking around with a persistently raging erection. This condition was aggravated by being forced to spend hours with her as they travelled to the city of Amaranthine. Blast her for smelling of rose and mint and **damn** the lack of privacy that hindered his ability to t_ake care of business_. It made him extremely surly.

Once inside the city, Neria had found a stray cat mewing plaintively and gifted it to her fellow mage. Anders had taken to the cat immediately, cuddling it and making kissy noises at it. Neria similarly lavished Anders' cat with affection and praise, so much so that Nathaniel found himself quite jealous of it. A _bloody cat_ of all things!

"That cat seems to have taken a liking to you, Anders," Neria said with a smile.

"I've decided to name him 'Ser Pounce-a-Lot'," Anders declared.

"Sure, that's a great name to give a cat," Oghren put in, belching loudly. "If you're a _woman_."

"Don't listen to Oghren, Ser Pounce-a-Lot!" Anders cooed happily. "He's a very bitter man."

"What now, Commander?" Nathaniel asked pointedly, in an effort to turn the conversation back to Warden business.

Neria paused for a moment to consider their options. "It's getting late. I'd like to check out the shops first. We can head to the Crown and Lion Inn afterwards."

As they wandered through the marketplace, Neria took time to talk to the various merchants who were loudly hawking their wares, selling everything from armor and weaponry to fine silks from Orlais. The mouthwatering smell of food added an additional layer of enticement.

"Namaya!" Anders exclaimed suddenly and hurried towards a rather shady looking elven woman standing by an alley.

"Took you a while to get here Anders," she replied. "I have news for you. Your phylactery is located in a warehouse nearby."

"Wonderful!" said Anders enthusiastically. Namaya shot Anders a baleful look as she left. Realizing that his companions were staring at him, Anders laughed weakly. "I suppose this requires an explanation?" He explained the situation, ending with a plea to the Commander. "If we could, do you think we could go check it out? If there is any chance my phylactery is there, I need to destroy it."

Neria nodded. "Of course."

Anders flashed her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

After nosing around and taking a few wrong turns into alleys, they found the warehouse. When they entered it was seemingly abandoned.

"They left it here with no guards?" Anders said unbelievingly. "It can't be that easy."

Nobody was surprised when Ser Rylock and two other Templars stepped out from the shadows. "Anders," Rylock said with disdain. "I should've known you couldn't resist the chance to steal your phylactery. You've made a mistake with this one, Warden. He's a murderer!"

"He's made a fine Grey Warden so far," Neria countered calmly.

"That'll change. Hand Anders over to us. **Now**," demanded Rylock.

Neria crossed her arms. "No."

Rylock's eyes narrowed in concentration as she studied Neria closely. "Wait a minute, I recognize you! Well, well! Little Neria Surana! Irving's former pet is now the Commander of the Grey. How very _interesting_!" Rylock purred. "Do your companions know you slaughtered your lover-turned-abomination because he was such a pathetic excuse for a mage? Oh, we all laughed over that one for days, didn't we boys?" The other Templars chuckled nervously.

"You think I haven't heard that one before, Rylock?" Neria replied with a cool smile. "If you are going to insult me, at least try and be _original_."

"**Bitch**!" Rylock snarled as she drew her sword and launched herself at Neria, who immediately countered by shifting into a bear and meeting Rylock head-on. The remaining Templars rushed to join the fray but they were intercepted by Oghren's sword and shield. With Nathaniel's deadly arrows and Anders' healing, the two Templars were disposed of quickly. Neria's companions then attempted to aid the Commander, but Neria's huge bear ass blocked their line of sight and prevented them from helping in any way. When the bear finally backed off Rylock's prone form, the Templar's body was no longer recognizable. Her Templar armor had been cleaved into two jagged halves and the body mangled into a bloody, gory mess.

Neria shifted back into human form, walked calmly over to Nathaniel and drew his dagger from it's sheathe. Nathaniel's eyes widened but he made no move to stop her. With a howl of rage, Neria lunged at Rylock again and began repeatedly stabbing Rylock's body while tears streamed down her face.

Nathaniel turned to Anders. "Go ahead and search for your phylactery," he said quietly.

Anders looked carefully around the room while Nathaniel knelt by the Warden Commander. "_Neria_. Rylock's dead. You can stop now." When she didn't respond, Nathaniel seized her hand in an iron grip. "_Neria_! **Enough**!"

That got her attention. Looking at Nathaniel through teary, unblinking eyes, Neria let the dagger fall to the floor with a metallic clang. She stared at Rylock's body for a moment. She tugged at her hand and Nathaniel let her go. Neria silently picked the dagger up again and thoroughly cleaned it, handing it back to Nathaniel in a silent gesture of apology.

Nathaniel had never seen Neria act like this before. "Are you okay?"

Neria took a breath. "I'm fine." But Nathaniel wasn't convinced.

"I couldn't find my phylactery. Figures it wouldn't be here. Ah well," Anders stated when he'd completed a thorough inspection of the room. He ran a hand tiredly through his blond hair. "Well, Commander, you stood by me and I appreciate that," Anders said gratefully.

"You are a friend, Anders," she said solemnly. "Friends stick up for each other, don't they?"

"I guess they do," Anders replied. "Come, let's get going before someone else jumps out and waggles a finger at us."

As they walked back towards the marketplace, Nathaniel studied Neria in concern. Her face was a composed mask of calm, but Nathaniel could sense the wild grief that lurked beneath the surface. Was the mage-turned-abomination in fact the same 'Colin' that Neria had mentioned during one of their earlier arguments?

Nathaniel tried to think of something suitable to say but he was distracted by a familiar figure browsing a merchant's wares. He edged closer to get a better look. "Delilah is that really you?" he asked tentatively.

The woman turned and her eyes widened in shock. "Nathaniel! I had feared the worst!"

Overwhelmed with emotion, Nathaniel ran over to her and hugged her tightly. "It's so good to see you again!"

"Do you have a few moments to spare so we can talk?" Delilah asked as she tucked her hand into the crook of Nathaniel's arm.

"Meet us at the Crown and Lion Inn when you are done," Neria said in response to Nathaniel's questioning glance. "My lady." Neria nodded at Delilah and continued on her way.

Delilah chatted animatedly as she guided Nathaniel to her hovel. "Albert and I are so lucky to have our own place!" Delilah invited Nathaniel to sit down while she busied herself in the kitchen area making tea.

Nathaniel glanced in alarm at the humble, one-room abode. "Times must have been hard, Delilah but you can do better than this. Come and stay with me at Vigil's Keep until I can find you something nicer than this…place!"

Delilah laughed. "What? Oh, Nathaniel! I didn't marry Albert out of desperation. I adore him! I was so glad to get away from Father's evil-this life is so much better!"

"Father's evil?" Nathaniel asked in disbelief. "Isn't that overstating things a little? He got caught up in politics…"

"You weren't here. You didn't see what he did, Nathaniel. You want the culprit who destroyed our family? It was him, without question."

Nathaniel shook his head. "I…had no idea."

An uncomfortable paused ensued. "I'm expecting a baby!" Delilah declared suddenly. Her smile was radiant as she patted her gently rounded stomach.

"Congratulations, my dear!" He replied fondly.

"What about you, Nathaniel? Where have you been all this time?"

Nathaniel related a carefully edited tale of how he came to be a Grey Warden. When he had finished, Delilah asked, "Are you happy?"

Nathaniel surprised himself by nodding. "Nothing has turned out the way I expected, but I have a purpose, fighting the darkspawn. The Warden Commander, she…"

Delilah raised an eyebrow. "That _elf_ I saw you with, she is the Warden Commander?"

"She is one of the most capable, honorable people I know," he said tightly.

"You are defending her," Delilah replied with amusement. "I wasn't attacking her, merely making an observation, Nathaniel."

"Oh," Nathaniel replied, feeling foolish.

Delilah studied her brother thoughtfully for a moment. "You wouldn't happen to be in love with her, would you?"

Nathaniel's cheeks turned red. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You always were a terrible liar, Nathaniel," Delilah murmured affectionately.

Delilah poured tea into a thick ceramic mug and handed it to Nathaniel. "I think it's _delightful_. If anyone deserves a bit of happiness, it's you."

"Thank you," Nathaniel mumbled. Count on his sister to cut directly to the heart of the matter.

After they talked for awhile longer, Nathaniel got ready to take his leave. He took out a velvet pouch from his pack and handed it to Delilah. "I want you to have these."

Delilah's eyes widened as she pulled a handful of glittering gems from the pouch. "These belonged to Mother!"

Nathaniel nodded. "I found these back at the estate. Mother would want you to have them, I think." He got up and put his arm around his sister. "You can sell them, if you need…you know."

Delilah hugged him fiercely. "Thank you so much! You must come back and visit me! I want you to meet Albert! And the babe is due this spring."

"Of course." Giving his sister a final hug, he stepped back into the dusty, noisy streets of the city of Amaranthine.

After the day's events he was happy and exhausted, yet still concerned for Neria. He would have to talk to her about it later. When he finally got back to the Crown & Lion Inn, Nathaniel quickly ate supper in the dining room. As he headed up the stairs to his room, he paused when he spotted the Warden Commander standing in the hallway. "Neria?"

"_Nathaniel_," she murmured as she approached him, her eyes blazing with agitation and _need_. She pushed him roughly against the wall and fused her mouth to his in a hot kiss.

"Neria, what are you…" he gasped when he realized she was unlacing his breeches. He instantly grew hard, groaning as Neria's cool little hands reached in and caressed him boldly.

"No more talking," she demanded as she jerked his breeches down and squeezed his balls roughly until he moaned in protest.

_Maker's breath_, his ass and bits were exposed for anyone to gawk at if they happened upon them. He managed to angle Neria to his room as they continued to lock lips. Reaching blindly for the doorknob, Nathaniel cursed as he realized the door was locked. _Bloody hell_, the room key was in his pants...that were currently pooled around his feet.

Neria pulled away from him briefly as she knelt and fished the key from his pants. She gave his cock a lazy swipe of her tongue as she stood up again, laughing softly at Nathaniel's muttered invocations to the Maker. Nathaniel took the key from her, unlocked the door and jerked it open.

"I'm so glad," Nathaniel said viciously as he entered the room and kicked the door shut. "That you find this so amusing." She made no sound as he ripped her tunic off her, baring her body to the ambient glow of the fireplace. They both shed their clothes hurriedly and Neria kissed him once again, backing him up against the bed. He let her push him onto the bed as she followed suit and straddled him. Nathaniel couldn't get over how silky soft her skin was as she rubbed herself wantonly against him. They both gasped when she reached between them and guided his cock so that he was pressed against her intimately, gliding wetly against her feminine folds.

He startled in surprise when he saw that Neria held a length of rope and was in the process of securing each of his hands to a separate corner of the headboard.

"Neria, what…"

"Shhhhhh." She nipped at his ear. "Trust me?"

He shut his eyes and nodded. When she finished knotting the ropes she resumed licking and kissing her way down his body. She openly relished his every groan and shudder as she pressed a line of kisses down his stomach and inner thigh. "Do you want me to take you into my mouth?" she whispered softly. She licked a wet circle around the stiff purple crown of his cock.

Nathaniel panted harshly as his hands strained against the ropes. "_Maker's breath_, Neria," he choked out. "_Yes…yes…_"

Neria made a little hum of approval in her throat. Nathaniel's eyes rolled back in his head at the sheer pleasure of being enfolded in Neria's hot, silky mouth. Waves of magic emanated from her, multiplying Nathaniel's pleasure as she continued to tug at his aching flesh with silky swirls of her tongue. At this rate, he wasn't going to last much longer.

"I'm going to…" He gasped loudly, arching as his climax surged through him. Neria kept her mouth clamped around him until he subsided weakly against the bed with his eyes closed. She licked her lips in a thoroughly satisfied manner. Nathaniel had never felt so enervated.

Neria freed one of his hands, nimbly eluding his embrace when he reached for her. She rifled through his pack until she found one of his extra shirts and put it on.

Nathaniel stared at her in bewilderment. "Aren't you going to untie my other hand?"

"No," she replied quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. Whatever her reason for initiating this interlude, she meant to leave immediately afterwards.

Nathaniel's eyes acquired a predatory gleam as she picked up his dagger and placed it on the bed within his reach, presumably so he could free himself after she'd made her escape. He moved so swiftly that it took a moment for her to realize that he'd seized her and lay spread eagled beneath him. He captured her mouth in a searing kiss, insistently licking the closed seam of her mouth until she parted her lips, allowing him to explore the wet silkiness of her mouth.

He pulled back after a moment and gave her a stern look. "If you try to run away from me now, I will hunt you down and ravish you _on the spot_. If it means I take you on a table in the tavern in front an audience, so _be it_." He gave her a gentle shake. "Do we _understand_ each other, Neria?"

Neria glowered at him but didn't object.

He took the dagger and cut himself free. He gathered her in his arms again and took her mouth in a fervent kiss. He wanted to lick and taste every part of her body, spread her legs and pleasure her, and fill her until she came for him. His cock throbbed painfully at the prospect. However there things they needed to discuss, so he let her sit up. "Do you want to talk about Colin?" he asked.

Neria shot him a guarded look. "No."

Heaving out a great sigh, Nathaniel decided to change the subject. "I need to tell you something."

"_What now_?"

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

"Impossible!" Neria protested. "We've only known each other for a few weeks!"

"If what I said scares you, that's okay," Nathaniel continued. "I'm going to be there for you, Neria, no matter what happens. But if you _think_ I'm going to let you get away from me, _think again_."

Neria levered herself away from him, her eyes wide with panic. "What happened just now, it doesn't change _anything_," she muttered as she got off the bed and struggled to button her shirt.

"I'm fairly certain things changed when I first laid eyes on you," he commented wryly.

She glared at him. "You are being _ridiculous_."

At least the fire was back in her eyes. He relaxed on the bed as she stomped to the door and opened it, recognizing she needed time to think about what he said.

"We can talk about this later, Neria," he said. "In the meantime, you might want to put on some..."

"You've said quite enough already!" she retorted as she slammed the door behind her.

"_Pants,_" he said to himself. Convincing Neria that they belonged together might be like attempting to keep Oghren sober for a year, but he was sure going to have fun trying.

_A/N: Thanks as always to kissy & b, the beta winds beneath my wings! Thanks also to g, who insisted he beta the story as well in order to make sure I nailed the "mechanics" of oral sex *eyeroll. And also to you who read and fave and review this story, you guys keep me inspired to keep on keepin' on!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Just A Dream**_  
_Chapter Six  
Location: The City of Amaranthine

_The Tower lay in ruins._

_The floors were slick with blood and the __distinctive sickly-sweet smell of burnt flesh permeated the halls. But Neria didn't bother to spare a glance for the bodies of her friends and colleagues that lay strewn about as she raced breathlessly through the Tower._

_The only thing that mattered was saving Colin._

_There had been no sign of him thus far; every room she'd checked held only __demons from the Fade or ensorcelled Templars. She howled in rage at the sight of them, venting her anger and frustration by making sure every one of those bastards died painfully. It seemed that no matter how many flights of stairs she climbed, the Harrowing Chamber seemed to retreat from her reaching fingers._

_She clenched her fists in determination. If Uldred had harmed Colin in any way, she would see to it that he paid a hundred times over._

_A sudden flash of light blinded her. When she opened her eyes she found herself standing at the entrance of the Harrowing Chamber. She unleashed a massive fireball that blasted the door off its hinges. However she was completely unprepared for what she saw next._

_Uldred had somehow morphed into an ogre and his bared fangs dripped with blood. Colin was on his knees, his hands were magically bound over his head. His face was black and blue and one eye swollen was shut. Somehow she could also make out the silhouette of Irving sagging weakly against the prone body of a dead mage._

"_Your lover was too weak. He's mine now!" Uldred growled triumphantly._

"_NO!" Neria shouted. "Colin!" She tried to attack Uldred but her feet felt rooted to the ground._

_Colin turned and looked at her sadly. "Don't hate me, Neria. I had to buy you time to save the Tower. To save Irving. I love yo…"_

_Colin was interrupted when Uldred seized him in a deadly grip. "NO MORE TALKING! He's mine, do you understand!" Uldred screamed._

"_Please…no…have mercy!" she cried out when she realized that Uldred was crushing the life from her love's body. Colin's choked screams of pain ended in a sickening crackle of bone and sinew._

_Uldred sneered in triumph as he carelessly pitched Colin's crumbled body to the floor._

"_Colin!" Neria ran forward and fell weeping over his body. Her tears bathed Colin's pale visage as she frantically tried to memorize the shape of his face and the downy softness of his sable brown hair with her hands._

_Colin's eyes were peacefully closed, as if he had just fallen asleep. It would only take a kiss to wake him up…_

_She whispered his name over and over like a mantra, fervently pressing her lips to his cold ones._

"_I'm so sorry, my love…"_

.

.

.

.

.

_It was just a dream._

Neria wiped the tears from her face as tried to banish the image of Colin's broken body from her brain. However it was futile—that final scene from her nightmare kept looping endlessly in her mind.

_Focus on the mission at hand_, she told herself as she made her way through the streets of Amaranthine. She needed to find the damned tavern with the _ridiculous_ name and meet with the Dark Wolf. Then, she could find something to numb the pain so she could forget, at least for a few hours. But first she had a job to do.

And then she saw it. Any doubts in Neria's mind as to whether she had come to the right place were immediately banished when she saw the toenail. Actually it was an enormous wooden sign carved to resemble a toe and its chitinous nail, with the name of Amaranthine's most notorious tavern, "_The Archdemon's Toenail", _garishly emblazoned in blood-red paint. It seemed a rather fitting name for the seedy alehouse of dubious repute. From within, drunken, raucous laughter mingled with the excited squeals of whores. The floor was sticky and the overwhelming stench of alcohol, vomit and unwashed bodies assaulted her senses, but it suited her mood _perfectly_.

A brief lull enveloped the "_Toenail"_ as Neria shook the rain off her cloak and drew her hood down, her dark brown hair gleaming in the light. She pushed her way through the crowd, but was stopped when a swarthy, dark-haired man lurched towards her and caught her arm in a painful grip.

"Me name is Keith," he slurred drunkenly. "Join me for a drink, lovey?"

Neria stared at him coolly. "Bugger off, jackass."

Keith took a long swill of his ale and burped loudly. "So…the _whore_ has a mouth on her." He glanced around the room in exaggerated disbelief. "You and what army, lovey_?_" Keith sneered.

A loud outcry erupted when Keith's glass suddenly exploded, showering him and everyone in the immediate vicinity with ale and tiny glass shards.

A wisp of icy smoke curled from Neria's fingertips. "Get your flea-ridden hide out of my sight before I dismember your wee cock and shove it up your arse!_"_ She threatened menacingly.

Keith's face turned livid but he put his hands up and backed away. "Just being friendly, miss, that's all. No need to get violent."

"Somebody better be paying for that glass," the barkeep grumbled loudly. However he relaxed when Neria tossed him a sovereign.

Ignoring the ogling crowd and disdainful glares cast in her direction, Neria headed towards the solitary figure seated near the back of the tavern. She sat next to him at his gestured invitation. From the depths of his hooded cloak the Dark Wolf smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the dusky light.

"That was _quite_ an entrance, Warden Commander. I understand you wanted to see me?"

"There are those who dare to plot against the Grey Wardens," she said bluntly. "I need information about who these people are and what they are planning."

"It's possible, but my services are expensive," the Dark Wolf replied. "I require fifty sovereigns."

"Done." Neria pulled out a hefty pouch and slid it across the table. The Dark Wolf expertly caught it and tucked it away into the folds of his cloak.

"It will take some time, however," he added.

"Understood. You have my thanks."

"Thank you, my lady. Now may I suggest a hasty departure before poor Frederick the barkeep suffers an apoplexy?"

Neria nodded curtly and exited the tavern. She smiled grimly when she noticed a group of men purposely heading towards her.

"There she is!" Keith snarled as he and eight of his cronies surrounded her. "The _bitch_ needs to be taught _a _lesson!"

"Is it really going to take nine of you to take down one little mage?" she mocked in a singsong voice. She relished the familiar bitter taste of adrenaline as she adopted a battle stance. "Come and _get me_!"

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.

.

.

.

The barkeep had thrown another log onto the huge, crackling fireplace that kept the Crown & Lion Inn warm, cozy and bathed in ambient light. Patrons were laughing quietly and puffing on their pipes as they had a pint. Oghren, Anders and Nathaniel were seated at a table in the far corner, sipping ale and enjoying a delicious dinner of roast beef and potatoes. Oghren and Anders were well on their way to drinking themselves senseless but Nathaniel had nursed the same pint all evening.

Nathaniel kept replaying last night's scene over and over in his mind. Had it been wrong to declare himself so soon? He shook his head as he listlessly speared a potato with his fork. He'd never been one to hide his feelings and he'd_be damned_ if he was going to start now.

Oghren took a long swill from his tankard of ale before leaning forward conspiratorially. "So…what's going on between you and the Commander?"

"Mind your own business, dwarf," Nathaniel muttered.

"I don't know," Anders said, winking at Nathaniel. "There was talk earlier that someone spotted her coming out of your room last night without any pants on. Apparently she has a nice…"

"No one mentioned anything about the Commander being naked!" Oghren protested loudly.

Nathaniel eyes narrowed in temper. "You will not speak of her that way, do you understand?" he said through gritted teeth.

"No no no!" Anders waved his hand dismissively. "You misunderstand us, Howe. We're on your side!"

"That's right! _TEAM NATHANIEL_!" Oghren thumped his fists emphatically on the table and let out an obnoxious burp. "Count me in!"

Anders burst out laughing. "_Team Nathaniel!_ That has quite the ring, doesn't it? We'll need to come up with some grand strategy to make her fall in love with you!"

Nathaniel leaned back against his chair and rolled his eyes. To say anything at all would only add fuel to the fire of this moronic conversation.

Oghren waggled his eyes eyebrows at Nathaniel. "So…when the Commander gets back from _The Archdemon's Toenail_, you should…"

"What?" Nathaniel abruptly stood up, nearly upsetting the table in the process. "Bollocks_!_ When in the bloody hell did she leave?"

"Half an hour ago. You were in the privy," Oghren added helpfully. "Otherwise you would've seen her…"

"Andraste's ass!" Nathaniel bellowed and was out the door like a shot.

"He really is whipped, isn't he?" Anders said idly.

"Yup." Oghren downed the last of his ale and ordered another round.

The argent moon illuminated the streets of Amaranthine as Nathaniel ran full-tilt, his mind roiling with countless gruesome scenarios that ended with her lying dead in some alley or worse, raped. When he turned a corner, he stopped at the sight of a large black bear advancing menacingly towards a sizable group of thugs, all of whom were lying on the ground and moaning loudly in pain.

It was _her_. It had to be. Maker's breath, he was going put her over his knee and spank her until she howled for mercy.

"Let's get out of here!" Somebody yelled. There was no argument as the assailants quickly disappeared into the shadows.

A glint of silver caught Nathaniel's eye as Neria shifted back into human form and smugly dusted herself off. Nathaniel reflexively glanced up and spotted someone on a roof aiming a crossbow at the Warden Commander.

"Neria! Ware archer!" Nathaniel shouted in warning as he nocked an arrow to his own bow and let loose a shot aimed directly at the center of the shooter's forehead. But it was too late. The deadly bolts had already hit Neria, who stumbled at the impact and collapsed.

Nathaniel immediately rushed to her side, barely noticing the sickening thud of the dead sniper's body hitting the ground. Nathaniel cursed under his breath as he knelt beside a very pale Neria.

"Nathaniel! Ungh…it hurts!" She tried to sit up but fell back with a gasp of pain.

"How in Andraste's name did you manage to get into a fight with nine men?" Nathaniel asked in dismay. He carefully examined the bolts protruding from her right shoulder and her blood-stained armor.

Neria shot him a wary glance. "Some guy accosted me in the tavern," she said defensively. "I might have implied that his manhood was…somewhat _lacking_."

"You're lucky I showed up when I did." He carefully picked her up, as if she were his blushing bride, and carried her back towards the Crown and Lion Inn.

"I had the situation under control!"

Her stubbornness ignited his temper. "Except for the part where you _got shot_! You don't just go barreling into some dive and practically dare someone to attack you so you can get your rocks off in a fight!" he admonished.

Neria's eyes sparked. "Really? You're giving me advice about recklessly charging into the night intent on getting revenge, _Ser_ _I Broke Into The Keep_?" she scoffed.

There really was no graceful way to answer that without sounding like an idiot. Thankfully he was spared from having to answer since they'd arrived at the Inn.

"Anders!" Nathaniel yelled as he kicked the door of the Inn open and went up the stairs to Neria's room. Anders' eyes widened at the sight of the bloodied Commander and stumbled to catch up. Nathaniel gently lay her down in her bed and waited impatiently as Anders rushed into the room.

"What happened?" Anders asked as he examined Neria.

"Someone tried to assassinate her," Nathaniel replied grimly.

Anders let out a low whistle as he gingerly probed the injury. "Did you kill the bastard?"

"Yes."

"Good." Anders nodded in satisfaction.

"Stop talking about me as if I weren't here," Neria snapped, but she was pale-faced and shaking.

"Nathaniel, let me borrow your dagger," Anders murmured.

Nathaniel handed it to him and Anders expertly cut Neria's leather tunic off her. Neria gasped in surprise at the indignity of having her bosom so blatantly exposed in front of her subordinates.

"Nathaniel, help her sit up and drink this laudanum," Anders commanded. Nathaniel complied and within moments the fine-grooved tension had eased from her face.

"I don't think the bolts hit anything vital, but I'm going to need you to hold her down while I take them out," Anders said. "You think you're up to it?"

Nathaniel grimaced at the sight of the blood oozing from her lacerated flesh but he nodded determinedly.

It was going to be a long night.

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The sound of Neria groaning roused Nathaniel from the book he'd been reading. He immediately got up and went to her side.

"Commander?" he asked softly. "How are you feeling?"

Her eyes fluttered opened. "Like I've been trampled by a herd of angry darkspawn," she said ruefully. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"About a day and a half." He ran a hand through his hair tiredly.

"I suppose I should thank you for coming to my rescue. Again," she said quietly.

He poured a glass of water and helped Neria sit up and drink it. "I could have lost you, Neria."

"The things that Rylock said about Colin…" Neria shook her head in frustration. "It set me off…"

Nathaniel crossed his arms. "It might help if you tried talking to someone about it."

_Like me,_ he thought to himself.

"I don't need to bloody talk to anyone about anything!" She shut her eyes and sighed. "Look Nathaniel, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but you have to stop pursuing this so-called relationship. I don't have anything to _offer_ you."

Nathaniel's temper flared but managed to keep his voice level. "I'm going to let Anders know you are awake. I'll be back shortly to check on you." He settled the quilt more comfortably around her and opened the door.

"Nathaniel? Will you please stop?" she asked in exasperation.

Nathaniel fixed the Warden Commander with an unwavering stare. "No," he said flatly and then he turned and left the room.

_A/N: OMG what a monster of a chapter! Thanks to the lovely b & kissy, who make the writing like a bajillion times stronger (I ain't kidding). And to g, who suggested the dream sequence (you rock you dirty skank). And thank you to the readers for your encouragement/feedback and for reading my story._

_To keep up to date on what's going on in the writing process visit my lj site:_

_celtic-twinkie dot livejournal dot com_


	7. Chapter 7

**Private Time**_  
_Chapter Seven  
Location: The City of Amaranthine

_A/N: Warning: There is a non-con scene in here all the way to third base, for lack of a better term. _

The loud thud of a body hitting the floor jerked Nathaniel awake from his nap.

He immediately bounded out of the sagging wooden chair located next to the Warden Commander's bed with his dagger drawn, then scanned the room for signs of an intruder. Instead, he saw Neria sprawled awkwardly on the floor and glaring at him balefully, as if somehow he were to blame for her fall.

"What happened?" He sheathed his weapon and lifted her back into bed. He tried to arrange the quilt over her but she swatted his hands away irritably.

"I was…_am_…going down to the tavern," she bit out.

Nathaniel crossed his arms and scowled at her. "You are welcome to _try_."

Neria tried to get up again but subsided against the bed with a grunt of pain. Frustrated, she let loose a stream of foul obscenities that had Nathaniel's (who had a fairly impressive command of filthy language himself) jaw dropping in shock.

"Commander!" He said reprovingly. "Why must you be so…" He stopped when it suddenly occurred to him why she was being so cantankerous. "How could I be so thoughtless…is it your shoulder? I'll get Anders to…"

"Maker's breath, will you stop mothering me?" she snapped.

Nathaniel rubbed his eyes tiredly. It had been four days since the assassination attempt and keeping a constant vigil over Neria was beginning to take its toll. He'd only been able to catch a few winks during Neria's fitful periods of rest and even then, he'd had to sleep with one eye open (so to speak) since she had the annoying habit of constantly trying to sneak out of her room.

_Patience_, he reminded himself. "What's wrong then?" He asked with pleasant, albeit weary smile.

"I should be out there killing darkspawn or bandits or something," she muttered. "I hate feeling so…_helpless_."

"It's only for a few more days, Commander."

"And I'm sure everyone is having a good laugh over the fact that I picked a fight in a bar and left myself wide open for an assassination attempt." She snorted derisively. "I'm the very model of a heroic Warden Commander, aren't I?"

"You were upset." Nathaniel smiled ruefully. "But I'm sure it's not as bad as sneaking into your old home and then falling in love with your arch nemesis."

Neria reluctantly laughed. "And exactly when did you decide you were supposedly falling in love with me?" She asked with an arched brow.

"Wait just a minute," he replied indignantly. "First of all, it's not I'm 'supposedly' in love with you. It's In. Love. Period."

She threw up her good arm in a gesture of defeat. "_Fine_. At what particular moment did you 'fall in love' with me?"

Somehow he'd envisioned the conversation in which they declared their eternal love for one another to be a bit more romantic. But then again she'd been through hell the last few days, so he decided to humor her. "When I first met you, I think."

She glanced at him in surprise. "You hated me at first sight! You wanted to kill me, remember?"

He shrugged. "That was before I discovered the truth. I've never been so happy to be wrong," he said equably.

"So the only thing left for you to do was to fall in love with me?"

"Yes."

She huffed out a laugh as she shook her head. "Only you, Nathaniel."

"Neria."

"Yes?"

"I know it's only been a few weeks since we've met, but…do you trust me?" Nathaniel asked. After all they'd been through together, he wanted, no, _needed_ some type of verbal affirmation from her, that she cared for him at the very least.

Neria stared at him intently as she contemplated his question. "Trust you? Of course I do. In fact, I'm thinking about making you my Second-in-Command."

"Wait." He shook his head in disbelief. "What?"

Neria smiled at his sweetly bewildered expression. "You heard me, Howe. If I die or become incapacitated, you replace me as the Warden Commander of Ferelden."

"That wasn't what I meant. I need to know how you feel about _me_, Neria."

She slid him an unfathomable glance. A long, pained silenced passed and he wondered if she was truly on the verge of rejecting him once and for all. He steeled himself against the inevitable, but he'd be _damned_ if he would be the one to look away first.

Another long moment passed as Neria took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When her eyelids fluttered open again, there was a gleam in her eyes that Nathaniel hadn't seen before. "Come here."

Nathaniel sat frozen in his seat. "Pardon?"

She patted the empty space next to her. "Come here. I want to tell you a story," she said coaxingly.

Nathaniel moved woodenly towards her and perched stiffly on the very edge of her bed.

"Make yourself comfortable, Nathaniel. I don't _bite_."

He swung his legs onto the bed then lay back (yet still maintaining a respectful distance between himself and the Commander) and tentatively settled against the supremely comfortable bed with a sigh. He could fall asleep right now if Neria's breath wasn't tickling his ear.

Neria shot him an amused glanced and then began her tale…

_It was late when Neria crept up the Tower stairs to the mage quarters. Though Colin lived in a large room that__ was subdivided into semi-private alcoves, she was well-liked enough among the mages for them to turn a blind eye to her late night shenanigans. It certainly didn't hurt that she'd arranged for the Tower chef to provide Colin's "roommates" (for lack of a better term) with an unending stream of delicious Orlesian sweets and pastries. _

_She paused when she entered his room and batted her eyelashes dramatically. "And how is the mage with the cutest butt in all of Ferelden?"_

_Colin's eyes lit with pleasure as she climbed into bed with him. "What took you so long, love?"_

"_Sweeney made me stay late to practice hurling fireballs at him. What are you up to?"_

_Colin handed her the book he'd been reading. "It's a treatise on the effects of prolonged exposure to lyrium." Colin chuckled when Neria made a face at him. "It makes for very exciting reading!"_

_Neria melted into his embrace as Colin possessed her mouth with fervent kisses. However he seemed more distracted then usual and she frowned when he gently eased back from her. _

"_What's wrong?"_

"_I saw bruises on Catriona's face when she came into class today. Do you know what happened to her?" Colin asked._

"_No." Neria shrugged indifferently. "She probably tripped on the hem of her robe or something."_

"_I know you can't stand her," Colin replied. "And I hate to ask this of you, but most apprentices clam up if their teacher starts asking personal questions. Do you think you can poke around and find out? _

"_Why should I care? She thinks she's better than me because she's human and I'm an elf, and because I'm not blonde and pretty like she is. She's always been a bitch, since we were kids."_

_He raised an eyebrow. "If she's being hurt in some way by someone, I want to know about it."_

_She sighed. She could never refuse a request made by Colin. He was the rock in her otherwise tempestuous life. She'd always been a bit socially awkward and never easily made friends with her apprentice counterparts. She'd preferred to spend her time with her nose buried in a book, until she'd met Colin. He was a couple of years younger than she, and when he was teased by the other apprentices for his delicate elven appearance, she'd kicked the shit out of the bullies until they left him alone. Neria and Colin were inseparable from that moment on. He was talented enough as a mage to undergo the Harrowing ahead of her. He became a full-fledged mage, and began teaching apprentices. _

_She never regretted her decision to become his lover. She loved him with all of her heart. He was her first and as far as she was concerned they would stay together forever in the Tower. All of the inconveniences, frustrations and discrimination that came with being an elven mage faded when she was with him._

"_Very well, I'll ask around tomorrow," Neria admitted reluctantly. "Now can we stop talking about Catriona? I can think of a much more satisfying way to pass the evening."_

"_That's my girl," he murmured affectionately, and for a long time there was silence between them…_

"So then what happened?" Nathaniel asked.

Neria's eyes were bright with unshed tears. He sensed it was costing her a great deal to tell him about her past. When she continued to remain silent, he squeezed her hand in encouragement. "Neria, don't stop now. Please."

She sighed. "All right. I talked to Catriona. She refused to say anything at first, but eventually admitted that one of the Templars had been bothering her. She said Johnson had tried to get her to sleep with him, but when she refused, he forced her…and had been doing so for awhile."

"I hope they gelded him for that," Nathaniel said angrily.

"She begged me not to say anything because it would make things worse for her. But by then I couldn't stand idly by, even if she had been a bitch to me in the past. So I told Knight-Commander Gregoir that one of his Templars was raping an apprentice, but he didn't believe me. He said it was the word of an apprentice against an upstanding Templar."

Nathaniel squeezed her hand sympathetically.

She took a breath. "I was so frustrated! I thought the First Enchanter could help me, but Irving said that without solid proof there wasn't much he could do."

"What proof did they need?" Nathaniel asked in disbelief. "Did they need to catch him_ in flagrante delicto _or something?"

"Well…" Neria shifted uncomfortably. "In a manner of speaking."

"Maker's breath, Neria!" Nathaniel's eyes widened in shock as realization dawned. "You didn't!"

_Neria rushed up the stairs to Colin's room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him there, getting ready to attend the mage assembly. _

"_Colin," she said as she tried to catch her breath. "I need you to do me a favor!"_

_He peered at her in concern. "What's wrong? Did you talk to Catriona?"_

"_I did," she replied. "Can you make sure you get Irving and Gregoir back to Irving's office as soon as they conclude the assembly? In fact if you could try to end it earlier than usual, that would be great!"_

"_Why?"_

"_I don't have time to tell you right now. Just say you'll do it. Please!"_

"_Neria." He grasped her by the shoulders and stared intently into her eyes. "You aren't planning to do anything dangerous, are you?"_

_Neria pasted a fake smile on her face. If she told him the truth, he would never do as she asked and there simply wasn't time to explain the whole situation. "Of course not." _

"_All right, I'll try my best. But you'll explain everything once it's all done?"_

"_Yes, yes!" She kissed him on the cheek and hurriedly left the room before he could change his mind._

_She had to find Catriona quickly. By now Johnson would've gotten wind of her visit to Gregoir and Catriona would be the one to suffer for Neria's failure. She rushed back down to the apprentice quarters but it was empty. Most of the apprentice mages had already gone to the common dining room for dinner._

_Neria searched every room or space that could possibly be used for a tryst. She thought she heard the muffled cries in a little used room, the very last one by the staircase leading to the second floor._

_She zeroed in on it, running quickly. It was Catriona, she was sure of it. Neria flung the door open and sure enough, they were both in there. Johnson was a stocky, powerfully muscled Templar with fists the size of hams. Catriona was in tears, having been shoved up against the wall with Johnson's hand under her robes. _

"_Neria!" Catriona sobbed. "Help me, please!"_

_Johnson turned to angrily confront the intruder who dared to interrupt him. "You!" Johnson sneered. "You're the one who couldn't keep your mouth shut to Gregoir! You're next, whore!"_

_Neria crossed her arms and stared at him coolly. "Pity. Somewhere a village is being deprived of its idiot.__"_

_Johnson reddened with rage. "Stupid cunt!" He shoved Catriona aside and started after Neria. _

"_Try and catch me, you miserable cretin!" She shouted as she ran quickly up the stairs. There was no point in trying to fight him with magic; he'd drain her of all her mana within seconds. She was counting on the fact that he would be slowed by the weight of his heavy plate armor. _

_Still when she quickly glanced back, he was keeping up a fairly steady pace as she continued towards Irving's office. What she'd do when she once got there, she had no idea. If Irving and Gregoir were delayed for very long…she'd have to….no she wouldn't think about that right now._

_She scampered up the stairs, breathless. Second floor. Thirty more steps until the third floor…almost there…_

"_You'll pay for your gossiping tongue!" Johnson yelled as he pursued her._

_Neria kicked open the door leading to the third level and ran. The halls were empty, save for the Tranquil and they ignored her as she ran towards Irving's office. She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally made it in. She grabbed a heavy statuette off the desk, prepared to use it as a weapon if necessary. _

_Johnson, who was breathless from chasing her, smiled evilly as he advanced upon her and locked the door behind him. "An empty office." He smirked. "Did you really think that fool Irving would be here to save you?"_

_She tried to scream but he backhanded her and she fell to the floor, stunned. A trickle of blood rolled from her lip. Johnson methodically stripped himself of his armor and laid it reverently in a pile on the ground. _

"_You're such an asshole!" Neria spit out as she tried to stand up._

_He punched her in the face again, fell on top of her, and ripped her robe down the middle, as if it were made of tissue paper. He pinioned her hands over her head as he ripped her chemise and drawers off. He twisted her nipple cruelly, relishing her gasp of pain._

"_You disgust me!" She turned her head to the side, trying not to let him see her tears. _

"_Shut up, whore!" He pulled his breeches down and forced her legs apart. He stroked his cock and laughed as he prepared to penetrate her._

_The door suddenly was suddenly blasted off its hinges._

"_JOHNSON!" Gregoir bellowed as he charged into the room with several other Templars. "What is the meaning of this?"_

_Irving glared at Johnson. "Unhand my apprentice immediately before I paint the floor with your innards."_

_Johnson stared dumbly at the Knight-Commander for a moment before he slowly moved off her._

_Colin ran to Neria. "Are you all right?" He covered her with her torn robe and helped her sit up._

_Neria squinted at him through puffy, bruised eyes. "More or less," she tried to joke._

_Gregoir motioned for the Templars to arrest Johnson. "Get him out of my sight." He glanced at Neria guiltily. "Rest assured, Irving, he will be punished severely." _

_Irving crossed his arms. "For your sake, he better be." _

_The Templars then left the room, dragging a protesting Johnson with them. _

"_Are you all right, my dear?" Irving asked._

_Neria nodded. _

"_It seems you brought the proof that was necessary to prove your allegations." Irving stared at her reprovingly. "Was it worth almost getting raped?"_

"_What else could I do? Nobody would listen to me," Neria muttered._

"_Make sure she gets some rest, Colin. We will talk about this later, Neria," Irving said meaningfully._

_Colin nodded. "Yes, sir."_

_Colin looked ready to throw a fit, but he held himself under control. Despite the fact they were nearly the same height; he hefted her easily in his arms and carried her back to his room. Ignoring the surprised gasps of the other mages, he gingerly laid her in his bed. She thought to feign sleep or perhaps pretend to faint due to stress, but Colin climbed into bed, caged her head between his hands, and proceeded to blister her ears with a scathing lecture about endangering herself, and how she should've told him everything in the first place. She wanted to argue, but, under the circumstances, she knew that his ire was born of concern for her welfare so she (in a rare show of submissiveness) lay meekly on the bed until he was done. Or perhaps out of breath._

"_I'm sorry, Colin," she said._

"_When I asked you to investigate the matter, I thought you were just going to ask around! Not mount a full scale assault, or take a chance like you did! How could you endanger yourself that way, Neria?"_

"_You're right," she murmured. "I'm sorry."_

"_That's right," he said, losing some of his steam when she didn't argue with him._

_He sighed and got off the bed. He pulled a spare robe from his wardrobe and handed it to her._

"_He… didn't hurt you, did he?" _

"_No," she said reassuringly. "You got there just in time."_

"And that's my story," Neria said. "The point I'm trying to make is that every day I jump off of a cliff in order to get things done. Sometimes I'm lucky and I land on my feet. Most of the time though, I end up a broken and bloodied mess."

Nathaniel shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand. Are you saying you have suicidal tendencies?"

"No! If you'd just follow the immutable…" Neria sighed in frustration. "What I'm saying is you'd be better off with a woman who could bear your children and love you the way you deserve to be loved."

"I disagree."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Nathaniel settled himself more comfortably onto the bed. "You walk around with so much guilt about everyone around you getting hurt that you feel compelled to solve everyone else's problems," he stated matter-of-factly. "It certainly goes a long way towards explaining why you spared my life and why you defended Anders against the Templars."

Neria seemed perplexed by his calm demeanor. "I'm going to keep jumping," she muttered stubbornly.

He gently stroked her cheek. "So we jump together and hold hands on the way down."

Tears began to stream from her eyes. The expression on her face was a mixture of fear and wild hope. "Nate," she murmured. "I still have nightmares. What if I'm never able to say 'I love you'?"

It was the first time she called him that. He shut his eyes tightly as emotion welled up within him. "We'll take it one step at a time." Nathaniel could smell the rose and mint in her hair as he wrapped his arms protectively around her. He waited for her to protest, to argue with him.

But all she said was, "Okay."

And just like that, it _was_.

_A/N: Thanks to kissy and b, my lovely and wonderful betas! There was a certain amount of handholding this time round as I wrote and rewrote (and rewrote). I really appreciate their patience with me. And thank you to everyone who has reviewed or put me on their favorites/alert list, I'm sorry the updates are so slow but it takes me a long time to plot these things out (and the bloody rewrites)._


	8. Chapter 8

**The First Waltz**_  
_Chapter Eight  
Location: The City of Amaranthine

_A/N: Mucho smexy times ahead._

She'd said yes.

Nathaniel had braced himself for rejection and was therefore completely unprepared for Neria's sudden reversal. "W-wait," he stammered. "Are you sure?"

Neria leaned in until her forehead touched his and gazed intently into his eyes. "Yes."

It was as if the Maker had suddenly plucked and dropped a rare and perfectly ripened peach from the sky. He'd barely caught it with his outstretched hands, and now he was torn as to whether he should pause to admire its downy, yellowish-red plumpness or immediately bite and savor the sweet juice he would suck from its flesh.

Nathaniel framed Neria's face with his hands, pressing his lips to hers. She immediately deepened the kiss and he let himself be drawn in, absorbing as much of her as he could. He cupped her breast through her shirt and squeezed gently, as her gasps and moans made him harden impossibly. At that very second he wanted nothing more than to shove himself inside her and find ease for his aching erection.

Nathaniel's hands shook as he struggled to master the force of pent up longing and desire spreading through his body like wildfire. He was surprised by the overwhelming need to possess her, to make her irrevocably _his_. He groaned and drew away from her shakily. "Neria, we shouldn't. Your wound…"

"I need you now," she insisted.

Nathaniel's breathing quickened when she slid her hand under his shirt to explore the supple, muscular lines of his body. "Neria…I'm serious…you need rest. We should wait," he gasped.

She arched an eybrow. "This is how you talk to your Warden Commander?" She deftly began unlacing his breeches and jerked them off his hips. Grasping him firmly and caressing him, she smirked when he grunted in pleasure and instinctively thrust himself into her hand.

"_Minx_, have it your way," he muttered. Neria gasped when he ripped her shirt down the middle and bared her to his gaze. He wasted no time in taking the tips of her breasts in his mouth and began suckling, until her nipples were tight berries, reveling in every gasp and moan of pleasure Neria uttered.

"Clothes,_ off_," she demanded. Nathaniel huffed out a laugh at her imperious tone and briefly left her to shed the rest of his clothing. "Glad to see me, Nathaniel?" she purred when she saw the size of his arousal.

"Always," he murmured**.** He climbed back over her and continued to kiss his way down the flat plane of her belly. Her breath hitched when he ran his hands up the insides of her thighs and kissed her intimately through her knickers. Neria moaned and arched herself closer to his mouth.

He slid her drawers off and down her leg, as he began to kiss and lick her. She cried out, keening every time he moved his tongue. He slowly slid a finger into her heat as she writhed for him. "You're so wet," he murmured in awe.

He continued to suck at her little nub, paying particular attention to what made her cry out the loudest**.**

"Maker's breath, yes… like that.." she hissed. "I'm… Nathaniel… ohh!"

Nathaniel grunted in satisfaction as she sobbed and shivered and wailed her release. Nathaniel looked quite smug as he leaned into kiss her again. "Have you been sufficiently pleasured, milady?"

She shook her head as she pulled at his arm, urging him to cover her with the welcome weight of his body. "I want you to slide every inch of your cock inside me," she begged.

Nathaniel's breathing became uneven as Neria gripped his heavy shaft again, ardently caressing him until he shut his eyes. "Neria, wait," he said hoarsely.

"Inside me. _Now_," Neria urged as she guided him between her thighs. Sweat beaded on his skin in his effort to be gentle, to go slowly, but her every gasp and moan as he worked another bit of himself in brought him closer to the edge. He gritted his teeth, trying not to spill himself prematurely as he finally sheathed himself in her fully.

"Ohh, _sweetheart_," he groaned. "You're so tight."

She pinched his nipple sharply, and with this sudden jolt of pleasure Nathaniel began thrusting into her, losing himself in the sensation of his flesh sliding along hers. Nathaniel continued to murmur words of love to her as her moans and cries of pleasure made him shudder, urging him closer to completion. She clenched around him tightly and heat started coiling in his belly**;** he knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer.

A sudden feeling of possessiveness swept over him. He may not have been her first, but if he had his way, he would be the only one to ever touch her again, the only one whose name she would cry out in the night**.**

"Only _me_, Neria. Say it," he gritted out. He brushed his fingers against the tiny nub between her legs to ensure she found her release once more before he fell over the edge himself.

"Only you! Nate, _please_," she begged, a moment before she shivered through another orgasm.

Nathaniel moaned as he buried his face into her hair**;** his thrusts becoming stronger and deeper until he shuddered and spilled himself inside her.

Neria's eyes closed as they tangled in each other's arms. She had already fallen asleep when Nathaniel pressed a kiss on the forehead and whispered "I love you."

_A/N: Much love to my betas, kissy and especially b, whom really really really helped turn this chapter into something more than a robot mechanical shag. Her edits and input were invaluable in the writing of this chapter!_

_Also, I started another story titled "Beautiful Disaster", starring Anders & Solana Amell. It's more lighthearted then A New Dawn, since Anders was clamoring for his own story. I couldn't say no to the poor dear. Check it out!_

_And as always, thanks to those who read and review and favorite/alert this story. You guys keep me going. _


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